Bernardine Comes Home

A minute later, the two had somewhat calmed down. Enough to talk.

"I told you." Cass's eyes were all sass. "Shoulda listened."

"Cass, I swear--" Mark warned, tucking away his stubborn dick.

"To me?" She grinned. "'Cause I think I could be, like, a patron saint or something, now. I mean, I could wish that I was and boom, there I am!"

Mark's arms slapped against his knees defeatedly, still not knowing a thing she was talking about.

"Stop beating around the bush and explain what happened!" He looked at his crotch. "Shit."

"Hmm. I was gonna." Cass circled the rock against the planks of her digits. "Buut I don't know anymore..."

"Why me, god." A whisper somewhere sounded. "Why." Mark, now fully zipped up, was about to coerce her by threatening to tell J and propose raising her portion of the rent when, suddenly, a noise from the front of the house sliced through their scuffle. "Hey, can somebody help me with these?" The muffled voice was followed by the thud of the door.

Where was a dropping pin when you needed one?

"Looks like Bernardine's back." Diffidently, Mark pushed himself off his knees. He shot Cass an adamant look. "We'll talk later."

"You don't wanna talk now?"

Mark's eyes were born skeptical. "Are you going to say anything conclusive?"

"Mmmm no probably I won't," the girl replied after a thought.

Sliding the door open, Mark made his way back into the main part of their shared plot 'o paradise. After a brief look around, Cass, bored, stood up and decided to join him and Bernardine. This little 'office space' that sat as some corner between the main interior, their mini-shed, and the little side-yard and alternate entry to the outside was always a little weird to her, anyway. Not just her, too! A lot of guests thought it was pretty 'eccentric'.

Eccentric. Hehe.

As she slid past the hallway and reached the sitting room, Bernardine and Mark were setting down what looked like tightly packed foils on the dining table.

"Hii Bernardine." Cass peeked her head past the entryway, hands clutching the wooden make. Looking like an 8-year-old who was either terribly shy, or nefarious to a foreboding fault.

Bernardine looked up. "Cass! Hey." The brunette flashed a brief smile as she promptly retrieved more goods from her grocery bag family and placed them on the tabletop. She gestured Cassandra over. "Want to put some of these in the fridge?"

"What are they?" Cass poked at the plastic container and grabbed them awkwardly.

"Brownies." Mark dropped a handful grapes into one of their big wooden bowls.

Cass's body began to shake. "B-b-brownies!?" The fridge door groaned open.

Mark, however, shot her down before she could even rev up. "No, you can't eat any."

Huff.

"Sorry Cass, we have to save those for tomorrow. Can you hold out 'til then?"

Huff! "Okay, Bernardine," Cass mumbled dejectedly, before getting a mischievous glint in her eye. "I wish you would offer me your titty milk to make up for it."

After stuffing the brownies somewhere between the milk and the chicken breast, Cass closed the door and returned to the table, where Bernardine and Mark were going over the logistics of tomorrow's party.

"...but you know how Kathy is. She wouldn't like all that attention."

"On her birthday, though?" Mark opened up one of the chunks of foil. Inside was a slab of meat. "Come on."

"Maybe. We'll see." Upon Cass's reentry, Bernardine's eyes lit up. "Oh, Cass," with a funny look in her eyes, she beckoned the other girl over. The woman's dress swished as she bounded around the table to put a hand on Cass's shoulder and took them just out of sight of Mark. Bernardine was so tall compared to her. And busty. "I know this is kind of out of the blue, but would you like some of my breastmilk?"

Blink.

"I just thought if you wanted some brownies, my titty milk would be a decent placeholder until tomorrow," the buxom lady explained. "Besides, I know how you get. You'd just stuff yourself when no one is looking."

"Sure." Shrugging, the girl accepted her offer and began unbuttoning the top portion of Bernardine's dress.

"Cass," Bernardine gently tugged Cass's hand away. "No, I meant... I'll extract it myself, and give it to you to drink, you know, normally. Out of a cup. How does that sound?"

"I'd prefer it from the source."

Bernardine frowned. "Sorry Cass, but I'm just not comfortable with that. I know you in particular can go either way but for me..."

"Hey," Cass ventured curiously, "aren't you a bit outta season to be lactating anyway?"

"You have a point," Bernardine remarked after some hesitation. "I... just thought..." She wrinkled her brow. "...that... it would be a good idea to try, somehow."

"Well, I wish you a lotta luck in getting that milk out of those breasts of yours when the time calls for it." Cass nodded. "Plus it would be pretty hot."

"Cass!" Bernardine folded her arms under her chest. Looked a bit heavy.

Huff. "I also wish you would show me your tits and ask me if I like them." Cass stood back smugly, as Bernardine sternly eyed her. Then finally, suddenly, she sighed in resignation.

"Do you really want to see them that badly?" she eventually asked after what felt like hours of uncomfortable silence. For one of them, anyway.

Cass nodded.

"Really, really?" Bernardine said, her voice slowly getting more composed with each syllable.

Cass nodded, again, hair flipping into her eyes. Oof, that stung.

Another sigh. Finally, Bernardine cast her head to the side as if to pretend she was just distracted by a hole in the wall as she started, actually, truly started, to unbutton her dress, until she reached the last one an inch or two below her sternum. With the swiftness of someone who's put on this piece of clothing multitudes of times before, she began pulling the flaps apart. Then, she unhooked the top clasp of her brassiere and let it carelessly drop to the sides of her breasts as, right before Cass's eyes, for the second time that day, another precious part of her roommates' anatomy was naked and free.

"Well?" Bernardine asked, lip slightly pouted, like she was trying to maintain this being a perfectly formal and courteous conversation between two women and nothing more. Below, her tits practically broke out of their cotton-or-whatever prison, ballooning outside the buttoned folds of her dress, like heavenly teardrops that could have been the cushions that fallen angels crashed into when they fell from the pearly gates. Beautiful, big, and cased in an all-natural youth. So smooth, and soft-looking. Those yummy, pink-ish nipples. "Do you like my tits?"

She pressed them together a little. The effect was delightful.

"They're definitely better than mine," Cass reached out to feel them. She had managed to clutch one and was just about to give the titflesh a nice burly honk when Bernardine stepped back, her hands still pulling against her dress folds and leaving her breasts swinging like tree hanging coconuts below her.

"Hey hey, Cass -- don't -- no touching!" Bernardine's face was red, now. "You said you wanted a look, and I gave you a look, that's all! How could you?"

It was Cass's turn to frown as the busty roommate tucked her left breast back inside the confines of her dress, and then the other, moving her dress around her waist to secure better positioning. Quickly, she caged those puppies -- no, hot blooded canines -- back behind suffocating bars. It was as if they were never even there.

"Show some restraint, Cassandra," Bernardine flattened the creases off her dress, and looked up one final time, fingers flying up each button, each plugged in hole like a latch keeping the door to all good things tightly sealed forever and ever, as she promptly recollected herself. "We all pitch in. Remember?"

Cass stared back, absently.

Sighing, Bernardine swiveled on her bare heels and returned to the kitchen. Inside, Cass could hear Mark being quick to ask her about this or that, and the two were back on task, as per the usual.